When All Is Said And Done
by Paperclip-Assassin
Summary: "For the better part of a decade he had masked his feelings for her and often succeeded but what had always irritated him more than her unawareness was when she very much knew what he was silently yelling at her with his eyes, but chose to ignore it." TxZ one-shot losely based on the S11 promo.


"Is this for real?"  
"Do you see her?"  
"Is it really her? Like _really_?"

**Yes. It's me alright. Apparently I still care more about NCIS than I thought after a pretty Tiva-less summer... I don't know why I only watched the Season 11 promo yesterday but I guess I just couldn't bring myself to do it any sooner. I can't handle Ziva leaving. Just... can't. **

**This one-shot is basically just me hauling unrealistic stuff around because I'm desperate and sad and... _desperate_! I have no idea what's going to happen on the show tonight (tomorrow for me) and I'm sorta ignoring the Season 10 finale... this is merely the Tiva part from the promo interwoven in a little storyline... **

**Also... "Whiskey Tango Foxtrott"? Is that, like, the title of the ep? The Ep is serouisly _titled_ "WTF"?**

**Well, my lovelies, the show must go on, so read and leave me reviews if it's not too much to ask. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned NCIS Ziva would stay with Tony forever, therefore it's painfully obvious that I own nothing.**

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**When All Is Said And Done**

"Talk to me Ziva… Where are you?"

His words, even as he himself said them, were deprived of all hope. A strange feeling of finality already settling in his stomach, he was reminded of an all too similar situation from what felt like another lifetime. Yes, he was going to find her, but, as much as he hated himself for thinking it, he doubted he would be as lucky as to find her alive. Not again.  
It surprised him how well he was handling the situation, working on autopilot and no sleep at all. He had stopped caring for anything except for her. Everything revolved around her. It had done so for quite a while.

Tired eyes were begging the computer screen to give away some crucial detail, a hint as to where his partner was, so he could see her one last time, speak aloud what he had never had the courage to tell her, aware of how uncomfortable pure, heartfelt honesty made her. She had never accepted vulnerability in herself and he had respected it. Always.  
He refused to recall the moments with her he treasured most, those rare minutes where they'd both let their guard down to let the other see what truly was beneath the carefully built façade. In the eight years he had known her there had been far too little of these flickers of truthfulness but he would fondly keep them in his heart, if not consciously on his mind. They hurt just as much as they caressed.

It was precisely at that moment that a call came in. Of course not from her, that would have made things ridiculously easy, but from his boss. He didn't pick up. Gibbs had subtly gone easy on him since his partner's disappearance and even though they weren't exactly colleagues anymore, they were still a team. Even more of a family than ever, actually, and everyone was concerned for Ziva, but somehow they all seemed to keep waiting for him to lose it, like he had back in Somalia.

To say he hadn't thought about it would be a lie. Living without her hadn't made sense years before, now even less so, but he was a changed man from back then. Grown-up. Maybe even too grown-up for his own liking, seeing his graying facial hair, which he had stopped shaving regularly since 'momentarily retiring', as he called his resignation from the agency.

"DiNozzo." The faint voice came from the other side of his front door and he cursed under his breath.

_Should've known better._

Slowly he made his way across the apartment in order to greet the intruder, who was, of course, by now standing by the piano in the corner of his living room.  
"What're you doing here, Gibbs?" he sighed, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe next to Kate's fishbowl.

"Knew you wouldn't answer the call." Typical for his (former) boss.

"Well, what's so important then?"

"Ziva came by my place an hour ago… to say goodbye. Didn't say where she came from or where she was going."

Rage was boiling in his stomach and he balled his hands into fists. "Why are you only telling me now? No, wait. Is she still there?"

"She asked me not to tell you, and you damn well know her, Tony."  
Defeat mixed with his anger, but both seemed irrelevant compared to the incredible feeling of relief. She wasn't dead. Breathing suddenly seemed easier again.

"I need to go," he said out of the blue, an idea flashing up in his sleep-deprived mind. Before he could make it all the way to the door a hand was firmly placed on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Don't do anything rash, DiNozzo. We don't know who we're dealing with."

He laughed once without humor and looked the man, who had shaped his life so fundamentally for years, straight in the steel-blue eyes. "You don't understand. I _need_ to go."

Gibbs held the stare for a moment before nodding his head and letting go of his former senior field agent's shoulder. No words were needed to affirm his support, no matter what decision it was that was flooding the other man's mind.

** . . . **

His car came to a screeching halt somewhere in the middle of nowhere. All around him were trees, not quite yet colored in the hues of autumn and he was surprised he had found his way there at the first attempt. It looked so different than four months prior. As he got out of the black Kia, a poor substitute for his Mustang, he scanned the area around him, careful not to miss even the smallest detail. The air was crisp and clear and the sunlight penetrating the faintly yellow roof of leaves above his head gave the place an almost magical glimmer. It didn't take him long to get to Gibbs' cabin and once there he could all but feel her presence. She _had_ to be there.

"I did not think you would be the one to find me."

He turned abruptly, his heart jumping to life at the sound of her voice. Her gun was lowered at her side and she stood casually but still alert before him. Alive and breathing.

"I thought you were dead," he stated breathlessly.

She gave a pained smile and put the gun in its holster. "You assume that too often, Tony. It's not healthy."

He managed to mimic the smile. "Can't help it."

Without any verbal communication they began strolling slowly farther into the woods, gaining a fake sense of security and isolation with every step. He wanted to reach out and touch her to confirm her presence to himself, but stayed controlled by professionalism.  
"Are you gonna tell me who's after you, Ziva?"

"No." Her answer was firm and not at all unexpected. Before he could object she held up a hand and continued. "I know what you're thinking. You want to help me, I understand that, but this-" she motioned around her- "this is way bigger than what you can grasp. And I cannot put you into such danger, Tony."

"But you can put yourself into it?" He asked softly, eyes on the side of her face. She was averting his gaze.

"Yes," she finally said after a long silence, "because I grew up with similar situations. It is quite…complex."

"So it has to do with Mossad," he concluded thoughtfully but was surprised when a throaty laugh escaped her lips.

"No, Tony. It's not Mossad. Not this time. But it doesn't matter, because you don't need to _know,_ you need to be _safe_." She suddenly stopped at the beginning of a clearance, as if the sudden lack of trees might be cause for concern. And it _was_, he realized as he saw her expression. What he wasn't prepared for was the intensity of the sudden eye-contact. Neither could look away. The words she hadn't said still hung between them.

_I need you to be safe._

"You could use a shave… my little furry bear," she teased, changing the subject and reaching out to touch his face, but stopping mid-air. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his cheek, covering her slender fingers with his own. The use of the nickname brought back a flood of memories he had been so desperate to keep under control. Them in a hotel room, big screen TV, green dress on the floor. She seemed to be having a flashback of similar nature, for a faint blush crept upon her cheeks.  
"I'm sorry, Tony… I should not have said that." She looked away, breaking the spell of the moment, and cleared her throat, most likely aware of what effect her words had on him.

"It's okay," he assured her as her fingers tentatively stroked over his beard. Neither of them was used to the feeling. "I need to ask you something, though."

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you come to me to say goodbye first?"

"I'm sorry if I hurt you in any of this… but if you feel offended by the fact that I went to see McGee rather than you, it's not because you mean any less to me-"

"The _Friends_-speech? Really? I think you can do better than that, Ziva… Wait a second," he stepped back, "McGee? You went to _see McGee?"_

Confusion was written all over her face as she helplessly stared back at him, seeing the betrayal on his features. It took her a moment to understand. "Gibbs told you."

"You're damn right he told me. Really Ziva, what were you thinking? That you could just disappear on me like that without me fighting for you?" Originally he had not intended to make the whole thing as personal but what had been said was said.

She sighed. "I knew you would come here if you found out. And I… I can't put you through this, Tony. It isn't fair."

Gradually he was losing it, grabbing her hand again and holding it over his wildly beating heart. "You know what's not fair? Making me believe you're dead. You don't want to put me through this? Then don't. You're not alone, remember?"

Recognition flashed across her face as he repeated those words, this time in English. He knew he was pushing her now, purposely making her uncomfortable, but time was running out and he needed answers. For the better part of a decade he had masked his, sometimes far too obvious, feelings for her and often succeeded but what had always irritated him more than her unawareness was when she very much knew what he was silently yelling at her with his eyes, but chose to ignore it. . In an instant her expression became neutral and he knew she was fighting it. This time he wouldn't let her again.

"Please, Ziva, for once be honest with me. Do you feel that?" he pressed her palm harder against his chest, waiting until she nodded, "That's you. You're doing that to me."

"Tony-"

"Tell me you don't feel it too. Tell me you don't care as much as I do and I'll be gone in a second and won't look for you again, won't ask any more questions. Just tell me you don't feel anything."

"I can't and you know it. I do… care for you."

"That's not enough, Ziva."

"It has to be." Her voice broke slightly but in her eyes he saw that she could keep her composure. Slowly she pulled her hand from below his own but instead of stepping away, she placed both her hands on either side of his face, thumbs delicately stroking over the rough bearded surface of his skin.

"Don't go. I don't know what I'll do without you." He tried a different approach, his voice barely above a whisper, because although she had never mentioned anything of the sort he knew that only minutes remained. It was a gut feeling of his which in the past had seldom been wrong. She swallowed once and searched his eyes for something but didn't seem to find it.

"Don't worry, Tony. You will be okay."

"What about you?" he asked, holding her tighter around the waist, needing to feel her. For the fraction of a second she looked scared but even he had trouble noticing it; her mask was simply too well formed. A small smile played around the corner of her mouth but it didn't reach her eyes. Suddenly her expression changed yet again, eyes growing soft as her gaze wandered very much consciously to his lips. For a moment all of his fears were gone and an odd feeling of lightheartedness overcame him as he watched her struggling with herself. In the end he didn't even have to take the decision from her when she inched closer until her lips lay tenderly upon his own.

It was more of a simple touch than a kiss and he was grateful, for if she had really kissed him the way he'd wanted her to for years he knew he wouldn't be able to let her go. And he _had_ to let her go. Time was as good as up.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered against his lips, eyes shut as she stepped out of their embrace. When she looked at him again he could see the tears in her eyes and as an immediate reaction felt his throat closing up.

"Ziva, you know I-"

"I know, Tony," she cut him off, by now far enough away that she was almost yelling, but the last part of her words was whispered into the wind. Forever lost, like their life together.

_I love you too_

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**Yep. That's it. I'm goddamn heartbroken now. As the promo said; this is the end of an era.I seriously doubt I will survive the episode without breaking down in tears.**


End file.
